Year of the Horse
by Elizabeth Ford
Summary: The Weasley twins' first year at school.  Hogwarts would never be the same again.
1. Chapter 1

A small crowd of eleven-year-olds tumbled from the carriages onto the shores of Hogwarts' Great Lake.

In the darkening twilight, the water was black with pinpricks of light scattered across the surface. Small waves splashed irregularly against the banks.

"All righ'," called the bushy-haired giant. "Inter the boats now. Three to a boat!"

A short black boy held a boat steady while Fred and George clambered in, then leaped in himself, landing easily on the front bench.

"Been on boats half my life," he said cheerfully. "I'm Lee Jordan. My dad's a fisherman, in Brighton. Couldn't fall out of a boat if I tried," he finished with a grin.

Fred and George looked at each other, then turned back, smiling identical friendly smiles.

"I'm Fred," said Fred.

"And I'm Percy," said George.

"Pleaased to meet you," they said together.

Lee grinned. "I've never met twins before. Don't think I could tell the two of you apart. Are you both _exactly_ the same?" he asked, as the boats began to skim across the lake.

"Well, we're not _exactly_ the same," said Fred.

"Percy here's a bit of a troublemaker. He's good for a laugh, but he just takes it too far sometimes," Fred informed him as George coughed harshly. "You shouldn't really get mixed up with him. I prefer academic pursuits, myself." He raised his head slightly. George coughed again.

"My brother went to Cambridge to study," said Lee. "Came back a right snob."

"Cambridge?" Fred asked, as George exclaimed, "Oh, are your family _Muggles_? We've never met Muggles before."

"Is it true that you plug yourself into the eckeltricity at night, to eat?"

Lee gaped at them, apparently unable to speak. Fred nudged his brother.

"Doesn't know how he eats! How stupid is that?"

"Keep yer hands in the boat!" Hagrid yelled. "Oy, you, that means you – I've got my eyes on you! Plenty o' creatures in this lake that'd like a few fingers fer a tasty supper!"

The offender pulled her hands back out of the water. She was a chubby blonde girl with red ribbons sewn into the neckline of her robes. She called, "Is it true there's a giant squid in there?"

"Bigger'n all these boats put together."

"Would it really eat a person?" whispered Lee Jordan, forgetting the twins' jabs. "A whole person, not just bits?"

"Sure," said Fred easily. "It sucks you up, and squirts mucus on you – acid mucus, you know, to dissolve all your bones. Then it takes a whole hour to eat you."

"You're most likely dead by then," George reassured him.

Lee scrunched up his face. "I don't believe you."

"Cleverer than he looks, eh Fred?" said George.

"Mind you, we don't know either."

"One way to find out, though."

Fred and George balanced carefully on their seats, and threw themselves at Lee.

The last thing the three boys heard before hitting the water was Hagrid's voice, roaring, "WEASLEY!"


	2. Chapter 2

The Great Hall was _huge_, George thought, standing on one leg and rubbing his foot on the other. Even Charlie's tales hadn't prepared him for it. Carved wooden pillars throughout the Hall held up the sky. A few stars peeked out, but clouds had rolled in while they'd waited in the Entrance Hall. George gave a sudden violent shiver, and bounced a little on his toes, trying to get warmer. Hagrid had let the three of them share his huge coat for the rest of the boat trip, but he'd taken it back before they'd been allowed inside.

At the back of the Hall was a raised platform, where a long row of teachers were seated formally along a long table, most in traditional University robes. Beside him, Fred was methodically sizing them up, but George was busy being unexpectedly nervous. Of course they knew what the Sorting was – they'd got it out of Percy the first day he came home – but in front of everyone, as soon as they arrived? He hadn't thought of that. At least Fred would go first.

"Patsy, Norman!"

Oh, hell, they were nearly at Weasley. A wriggle in his pocket reminded George of what they'd taken from the pockets of Hagrid's coat. A wet nose twitched and nudged his palm.

"Stimpson, Patricia!"

Sharp teeth bit into a finger. George yelped, and pulled his hand from his pocket.

He felt little claws scrabble down his leg.

Oh, _shit_. They hadn't intended to let the mice loose during the Sorting.

The mouse landed on George's foot and froze. If it stayed there, then maybe he could get back. He bent down slowly, hand outstretched. The mouse took off.

Over George's foot – over Kenneth Towles' feet, who dropped the Sorting Hat – _into_ the Hat – out and straight for the Slytherin table. The younger students shrieked and lifted their legs up. The older students laughed – until it climbed up a leg, onto the table, and began racing along the plates. Some fell onto the floor in an attempt to put some distance between themselves and the mouse.

People from other houses were laughting and hooting. Several had climbed onto the benches to get a better look.

SHWOOP! Suddenly, the mouse flew through the air, back along the table, past the remaining first-years, who ducked, and into Professor McGonagall's hand. She pointed her wand, turned it calmly into a blue teapot, and levitated it across to the staff table.

"Mister Towles, if we could _possibly _get on with the Sorting?" she said, frostily.

Kenneth Towles picked up the Hat and fumbled it awkwardly, prompting a snigger from Fred. George stood on his foot hurriedly, not wanting any more attention. He had a fair idea that McGonagall knew who had let that mouse loose.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Weasley, Fred!"

Fred affected a swagger as he walked to the Hat. He sat down, crossed his legs daintily, and placed the Hat firmly on his head.

A cold shiver ran through George. What if they ended up in different Houses? He and Fred were exactly the same, but – it could happen. What if it split them up? What if it was like Mum, who was always harping on about developing different personalities, or it thought they would be too much trouble together?

Well, they wouldn't stand for it. They'd petition Dumbledore. Or just leave. They'd waited for Hogwarts all their lives, but some things just weren't worth it.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

George clapped weakly.

"Weasley, George!"

Fred was balancing one goblet on top of another, barely glancing up, but George knew his twin was worried. He wasn't showing it. Well, neither would George. He strode confidently to the chair and the Hat, legs shaking too much to copy Fred's swagger.

"So," said the Hat. "Weasley twins. The last pair I sorted was a long time ago. Tony and Cybele Weasley. One for Gryffindor, one for Slytherin. And where would you prefer to be placed?"

"Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor, Gryffindor...Yes, you'd suit Gryffindor. But why do you really want to go there? Because you embody the traits of Godric Gryffindor? Or because that's where I placed your twin?"

"Gryffindor," George repeated. This Hat was sly. It had probably been made by a Slytherin. He wasn't going to let it weasel anything out of him.

"Cybele was furious, you know. Packed her bags and demanded to go home. But she would have been unhappy in Gryffindor."

Which was obviously not the case with him. The Hat had already said that he'd be happy in Gryffindor.

"Oh, you'd be perfectly happy in Gryffindor. Or Hufflepuff. Despite what you think, you _are_ different from your brother. Twins are never exactly alike."

"Not by much! And how do you know what I think? I wasn't even thinking it."

The Hat didn't reply.

"Are you trying to _change_ me? Into some weak-willed, do-gooded Hufflepuff? I think you've got head lice. They've addled whatever you've got for brains. If you think I'd be happy in Gryffindor, then put me there, you mouldy excuse for a Hat!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"


End file.
